The Inland Eye (Draft)

Emerald Angel

Emerald Angel

-Dedicated to "Sora/Saria", my guardian Angel

In the warmth of your anxious yet steady, empath embrace
We tasted each other's tear stained lips
on the calm eve of a starlit summer's night,
in Bloomington.
The city lights bloom in quiet warmth
and watch us like the eyes of patient, powerful Gods.

Your anxious heart beats at the pace of a broken clock.
Time stands still for us as your heart
ticks, hums, and sings a silent song,
for my Emerald green love.

My sweet earthy love, your song springs in my heart
like the crystal waters of our precious Green Acres,
our Forbidden Forest Temple, our Sacred Forest Meadow

Where you taught me the song of Unconditional Love
Acceptance smiles and wraps us together in a holy trinity
Under the light of the Deku Tree

Lady Luna

Our Lady Luna,
with her crescent diamond veil
paints us a pretty picture.

Black paint droplets

spill onto Terra Firma
Out of the dusk and dark.
It was such a pretty picture,
Until Lady Luna
Pulled the Aqua Marine blanket
Out from underneath our feet.

Unnamed Chapters

In the book of my life
A field of blue roses
Dot the i's.
If you skimmed the pages
you would find tear drop stains and empty picture frames.
Old friends, new places,
tired and Depressed faces.
A hot ink blot mess and
cold paper hands unzipping my black dress.

The steam from a bowl of coconut thai soup
Blurs the words on page 44.
On page 50, my best friend calls me a whore.
To run through these ripped pages,
looking for the end.
A quiet forest of cream-colored graves
Waiting at the turn of every page.

Bloomington

Bloomington 

A small city cradled between Riverside and Fontana, 

Sometimes quiet but often needy.  

Like a child running back and forth 

Between two noisy parents. 

I drive through constricted and dusty streets 

Where two lane highways and meek residents meet. 

Trucks haul cargo while horseback riders and taco carts 

Bloom amidst the smog and haze. 

Deep within a maze of modest and tired looking houses, 

Rests a quiet sanctuary of trees and man-made lakes. 

Green Acres, my destination. 

Home to many, peaceful refuge. 

I drive through industrial roads Below  

while warehouses and trucks  

Glare at me from all sides.  

As cruel but as natural as ocean tides. 

In the hills Above, towering and luxurious houses  

Pierce the smoggy air and 

Frown at a pearlescent sky. 

These houses cough while the sky breathes Pale pinks and bright blues  

down on my Bloomington. 

In Green Acres, flowers bloom in abundance. 

They grow in well-kept gardens 

Kept alive by the families from the tired houses. 

My best friend lives in Green Acres. 

In Bloomington, the steely hub buzzing with  

Taco cart bells, fresh grilled corn smells,  

And Flowers which bloomed and fell. 

I've arrived at my destination. 

Rolling green hills smile at the pearlescent sky. 

This is where the industrial closes its eyes. 

A place for those who lived to die. 

I bring pale pink lilies and bright blue roses 

To bloom on my best friend's grave. 

Thank you for being my blooming flower 

Amidst the cold, the gray, the steel frowns of life. 

Rest in Peace in Bloomington,  

Bloom forever with my love within.  

Dedicated to Gabriela Franquez, 3/6/1991 to 10/11/2016. 

The void

The void 

I see myself in your eyes.
A deep brown, a dark void,
Sucking me in,
Pulling me under,
And inside me
there are beats of thunder.
Lightning strikes and violent noise
Plummet down
with the sweetness in your voice.
The pure and unspoiled sweetness
that sings from your lips,
And before I know it,
You're grabbing my hips.
Sing for me, let me hear
The music of your demise.
An elegant demise,
A pleasure to my eyes.
Music notes dance on my skin
As I envelop you in my sin.

The Subconscious stage (draft)

(One) of the final ACT(s) begin(s),

(I, I, I) begin,

And I’m six(teen) feet under(water)

in the sea of my dreary dream.
Part the midnight sea, so that we may see, (C)

what does it all mean? (crystalline cove)

A glass marble drowns while floating

At the tip of my coral hand.
I peer inside and I’m on the top of (the Moon), of my own calloused creation,
for (one) hour which devours twenty one world(s) in (ten) waking minutes.

The waking world, the (wheel of fortune X ) is All (a) SET(i).

To devour,
(The Blue Rose) earring which contains the whispers of a diluted sapphire sky,

The whispering, wandering waves 

of monarch butterflies

choking me to a saccharine sleep.

“THE MONARCH EFFECT”

Shines in purple neon,
A thousand torn tarot cards scattered to a hungry, howling wind.

All labeled “number XVI” 

The swirls and curves of nimble numerals

Bend in the cuts of the crying wind,

And coalesce into (The Tower)s, (The Chariot)s, (The Fool)s who stumble along 

An everlasting spiral staircase which leads to the end of 

(The World). 

“Act XXI”